


On True Love's First Kiss and Definitions of Consent

by inheritanceofgeek



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Arwen Undómiel, BAMF Éowyn, Crack, Elrond is so done with everyone's shit, F/M, Gen, True Love's Kiss, Vague Social Commentary because MagicMarker said I have to start tagging for that now.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 01:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7993816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/pseuds/inheritanceofgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A princess in a coma, a handsome prince on the scene, we all know how that one ends right?</p><p>But really, is it that consensual to kiss an unconscious stranger? Is it that morally correct? Should you agree to do it even if you've got two elves telling you it's the only way to save them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	On True Love's First Kiss and Definitions of Consent

Faramir was aware that the ways of magic were strange and unreadable, a substance for neither good nor evil which could not be tamed by the will of any being -- however what Lord Elrond was asking of him didn’t just take the piss it took the whole bleeding toilet, paper and all! 

“I am sorry my Lord but I simply refuse to kiss this poor girl without her consent. It goes against every code I have sworn to.”

Elrond took another deep breath and tried to steady himself. Why did it always have to be  _ him _ who had to deal with these things? Couldn’t for once someone else take up the task for a change? What was Glorfindel doing right now anyway surely by this point it was his turn to sort out the mess of the mortal world!

“Prince Faramir, as I have explained to you before, the only way to save Lady Éowyn is with,” the elf let out a slightly pained noise as he could not believe he was saying this “a kiss from a prince of Gondor. Thus leaving you as our own real option in this scenario.”

“Would not King Elessar suffice? I know he is no longer a prince, but he was once and perhaps that is all the spell needs. He is of the lines of Kings after all, I am merely the son of the Steward newly appointed as prince. Surely the Lady would approve more of someone she  _ knows _ kissing her awake rather than a complete stranger?”

“No, no. The texts we have found are quite certain that a king will not do. And besides, the prince must also be, how to put this, pure of soul, which Mithrandir reliably informs me you are and your King, thanks to my daughter, is… not.”

Faramir felt a blush ride up in his cheeks. He could just see Boromir now, laughing about how his old fashioned sensibilities had finally come in useful. He squared his shoulders though and stood his ground. “To kiss someone without their leave would surely taint that purity. No, I refuse. As I said, there must be a way to get around this. Perhaps some sort of potion or poultice would revive her?”

“I have searched every text at my disposal, I have gathered every tale, I have consulted every bard, blacksmith and burglar in the hope of gathering information and _everyone_ is in agreement that the _only_ way to cure a son or daughter of man who has been hit with a cursed wound from a wraith is with a kiss from a prince. So if you do not wish her to remain unconscious for the rest of her days, forced to live out her life in whatever hateful darkness she is currently subject to until withered age finally takes her from us, then I suggest you get a grip on yourself and kiss the girl! Or do you want her continued suffering on your conscious?”

“No, but--”

“If it helps, my daughter is currently in there with her. I can always have her  _ command _ it of you. She is, after all, your queen.”

Faramir hung his head. The idea of being commanded to kiss someone would be even worse, and he wasn’t sure he could ever look Queen Arwen in the eye again if it were she who gave the order. “Is her brother in there with her?” he asked at last

“Yes.” said Elrond, raising an eyebrow at last “I assure you your kiss will be well chaperoned.”

“Well alright then let’s get on with this.” he sighed, trudging into the room at last.

He had not seen the lady in question before. He’d only arrived a few hours ago, having been suddenly rushed to Rivendel on important business he’d assumed regarded the queen and her return to Gondor. When he’d learnt the truth and that Aragorn had  _ lied _ to him and prostituted him out in this way he’d been quite keen on turning on his heel and never returning to Gondor again. Pippin had told him many a fine tale of the Shire, it would not be a terrible place to live out his days.

However when he saw her there, dressed in plain white with her golden hair framed around her fair face and hands quietly clasped to her chest, he thought her to be the most beautiful being he’d ever seen. To his eyes she even eclipsed his queen, who was busy wringing out a cloth with which to bathe her. King Éomer was also present, his once blue eyes now dark grey and face drawn haggard around a shaggy beard. He looked as if sleep were but a distant memory to him. Faramir could sense his desperation and despair emanating from his every pore. This man had lost everything dear to him and the thought of losing his sister was enough to send him spiraling into the same darkness as had taken so many other mourners. He looked up when they walked in Faramir felt a glimmer of desperate hope rose up inside of the man.

“Lord Elrond,” he said horsely “please tell me you have found a cure for her. Please tell me you come bearing good news.”

“I do my lord, however I am not sure you will like it.”

“So he’s agreed to the task then?” asked Arwen, dropping the cloth and coming over. “Faramir, do you know what must be done?”

“Yes your Majesty I am aware.”

“I have told you before to call me Arwen, do not make me tell it to you again.” she sighed in a way that she must have learnt from her father. “It is very good of you to agree to it though, I know you must think it… strange but Tauriel informed me herself that these kind of things do sometimes work. Love is a powerful weapon, after all.”

“Who is--”

“A long story, do not think of it. Come.” she said, taking him by the elbow and leading him over to the bed.

“Are you a heeler too?” asked Éomer, still confused as to what was going on. “Do you have some sort of skill that Lord Elrond does not?”

“You, could say that…” said Faramir carefully

“He is here to kiss Éowyn and bring her back to life.” explained Arwen, with an air of complete seriousness. Éomer stared at them.

“You what?”

“I am going to kiss her and she will, apparently, wake up.”

“What kind of colt brained nonsense is that? That’s the stuff of fairy tales not actual medicine!”

“I told you he would not approve.” sighed Faramir “Can I leave now?”

“No.” said Arwen firmly, “Éomer, I know this is not the ideal situation but please bare with us. There is a lot of truth in myth, we cannot ignore it completely.”

“You’ve been alive too long.” said Éomer, reaching out to grab his sister’s hand defensively “Your brains have all fermented!”

The elves would have been insulted if they did not know how much he feared for his sister.

“I assure you, this is the only option left available to us. Now stand aside before I am force to drag you away myself.” instructed Arwen, taking a step forward. Éomer wisely backed off. He’d seen first hand the strength of elves, and he was not keen to be on the receiving end of any of it.

Everyone then aturned to stare at Faramir. He took a deep breath and stepped towards the bed.

“Erm, good afternoon my lady. I am Faramir, Prince of Ithilien and I am here today to kiss you awake. I hope you do not mind.”

Éowyn made no sign of movement or recognition.

“Would a kiss on the hand work?” he asked rather weakly. The elves shook their heads firmly. He looked back at Éomer who made an angry ‘get on with it then’ motion. Faramir screwed up his courage, took a deep breath and bent his head to place a quick kiss to her lips. They were surprisingly warm though she looked so cold and to his own disgust he felt a joyous warmth fill him up. He pulled away, wondering if after all that it had worked.

To his joy and shock he saw her face stir slightly and her eyes open. She looked up at him and

_ THWACK _

Faramir staggered backwards, gripping his jaw. He could see why it had been her to kill the Witch King.

“Who the bloody fuck are you!” she screamed, already sitting up straight “How dare you come at me like that who do you think you are?! Come here you little brat! I’ll show you not to cross with a woman like that again!”

  
And they lived happily ever after. 

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone says it, in Bard's toilet in DOS you clearly see a stack of toilet paper by the toilet. So do not come at me with your historical accuracy justice warrior nonsense.


End file.
